


a realm to wander

by Exlipse (So_much_angst)



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Destcember 2020 (Destiny), Destinytober (Destiny), Experimental Style, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Idiots in Love, Mild Dismemberment, Multi, Nightmares, One Shot Collection, POV Third Person Limited, Polyamory, Post-Red War (Destiny), Resurrection, Sexual Content, Temporary Character Death, The Last City (Destiny), The Light (Destiny)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28372758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/So_much_angst/pseuds/Exlipse
Summary: His awakening is a rude one.Before this moment in time, there is nothing; it’s as though his brain has been wiped clean. No memories remain of how he got here, nor where “here” even is.---A collection of partially linear memories told from the eyes of Koval, the Hunter of Fireteam Realm.
Relationships: Female Guardian/Male Guardian (Destiny), Female Guardian/Male Guardian/Male Guardian (Destiny), Male Guardian/Male Guardian (Destiny)
Kudos: 7





	1. Your Guardian

His awakening is a rude one. 

Before this moment in time, there is nothing; it’s as though his brain has been wiped clean. No memories remain of how he got here, nor where “here” even is. 

A steel I-beam pins him at the waist, shattered glass flaked against the right side of his face and under his hands. Despite the prickling of his skin and the air slowly being squeezed out of him, and the weight of the metal above him, he feels full of energy. He plants his hands against the ground, braces his back, and _shoves._ The steel creaks and groans as he lifts, and eventually he’s just able to squirm out from under the weight. Fire erupts along his hands and knees as he scrabbles through the debris, and he flops onto his back, closes his eyes, and just breathes. 

“Thank the Traveller you were able to get out of that!” A tinny, male voice says above him, and he panics and swings a bleeding hand wildly. His knuckles connect with something small, metal, and solid, batting it out of the air and into a broken concrete pillar a few feet from where he’d been pinned. “Ow...” comes the voice again. He pushes himself upright, looking over into the direction of the voice. A single mechanical eye stares back, narrowed by a metal point. It’s almost star shaped, he notes as it floats back over in front of him. 

“I just revived you and you have the audacity to hit me? Ungrateful,” the drone grumbles. An apology tries to escape his mouth instinctually, but at best it’s too raspy to understand. He shrugs instead with a lopsided smile. It sighs, then whirs around him, bathing him in a silver-blue light he has to shield his eyes from. At the sight of the state of his hands, the drone softens it’s posture. “Here, let me just…” 

The silver light returns, more focused on his hands. As he lowers them, he’s amazed as the cuts heal and warmth fills his fingertips. 

“I had this whole speech prepared, and you just had to knock it right out of me, didn’t you?” the drone continues as it returns to hover in front of him. 

“You’re a Guardian… er, Guardian,” the Ghost falters, gears whirring as its tail end spins in embarrassment. He chuckles, and it continues. 

“I am a Ghost, well, _your_ Ghost, a child of the Traveler. You are one of it’s chosen few, a Hunter, meant to fight back the darkness and maintain balance. Once we get to the city, you’ll begin to understand.” He can understand what the bobbing machine says, _“Ghost”_ his brain reminds him, but he doesn’t _understand_ , per se. He shrugs, and gets to his feet. 

A survey of his surrounding area offers no clue as to where this city could be. The building they’re in is torn in two by a massive jumpship, one separated wing suspended by a mess of cabling. Few supplies spill out from the shattered cockpit, spoiled food and long emptied canteens strewn across the ground. The Ghost whirs up around his head and twists it’s front end into a quizzical expression. 

“I don’t think that’s going to get us anywhere.” 

He ignores the Ghost’s commentary as he climbs his way up to the broken windshield. His palms feel every piece of broken glass, leaving streaks of violet blood along the jagged rim. Once he manages to tumble inside, he finds something worth its weight in gold under a hunk of cement, a rusted and worn combat bow. There’s just enough ammunition beside it to defend himself, but he knows that he has to ration it as much as possible until he comes along something else. The Ghost looks taken aback by his noise of victory, but starts to scan around him with that same silver light. “Over here, there’s some glimmer.” Somehow, he knows it’s money, but he can’t place when he would have learned so. It dissolves in a bath of light, and he can feel his pocket become a bit heavier. He smiles at the Ghost, and continues his search through the wreckage.

By the time he finishes, the sun has dipped to just above the horizon line. His hunt yields quite a bit of treasure, a few undamaged MREs, another quiver full of arrows, two more stacks of glimmer, a fire starter, and most importantly, a cloak to keep the cold at bay. The Ghost had stuck by his side the entire time, scanning through the ruins and providing colorful commentary on his choice of fabric he used to wrap himself in. As night falls, he starts a fire, chasing that warmth his hands had as he had been healed. There isn’t much left in the ruined building, especially for how it had obviously been picked over by scavengers in the past years. 

Despite the amount of time that had passed, he still couldn't find his voice. After all, being dead for many odd decades does a number on the vocal cords. The Ghost, still without a name to call him by, had taken to calling him Hunter over Guardian. Despite preferring the former, he knew that wasn’t quite the right name for him. Inside the ship, he had found a torn scrap of paper with the cut-off words “-koval’i Luxu-”. 

“K-oa… Kov.. Koval,” he manages, feeling the way the syllables work through his mouth. The Ghost spins up around his head, front end cocked quizzically at his attempt of speech.

“Is that what you want me to call you?” 

He nods, then points at the Ghost. “Lux.” 

“Alright. So you’re Koval, and I’m Lux?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Well. I’ve never had a name before. Lux it is.” 

“Mhm.” He goes to his picking through his small stash of food in the firelight, a small smile on his face. 

“Get some rest, tomorrow we head for the Last City,” Lux proclaims, then looks at him almost fondly. “Oh, one more thing. It’s a pleasure to finally introduce myself to you, Koval.”


	2. Your Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s losing hope, at this rate. Decades of dodging bullets, hiding out, and feeling alone as one half of an incomplete whole wears on a Ghost, y’know? For as much as other Ghosts make it out to be, he doesn’t know if he can quite take much more of scanning debris and bones of the long passed without finding his missing piece. And yet, the pull keeps him moving, keeps him on this fool's errand to find a one in multiple billion person that he’s destined to partner with forever. 
> 
> _Traveler_ that sounds ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of these will be from outsider eyes, either from Lux or the members of Fireteam Realm. Either way, the third person limited still applies.

He’s losing hope, at this rate. Decades of dodging bullets, hiding out, and feeling alone as one half of an incomplete whole wears on a Ghost, y’know? For as much as other Ghosts make it out to be, he doesn’t know if he can quite take much more of scanning debris and bones of the long passed without finding his missing piece. And yet, the pull keeps him moving, keeps him on this fool's errand to find a one in multiple billion person that he’s destined to partner with forever. 

_ Traveler _ that sounds ridiculous. 

It’s that very same pull that leads him to a former highrise on the edge of the Cosmodrome one crisp August day. Normally, he avoids the Cosmodrome due to the high activity of Fallen, but the skies part and something spooks the scavengers into hiding. Whatever it is, he’s grateful for the House of Dusk leaving him to his business.

Along the first three floors of the front, a Reef-made ship cleaves the remaining building in two. The pull gets stronger the further he gets inside, until he’s hovering over the remains of... someone pinned below a steel I-beam. 

He goes to release the light bubbling under his shell, desperate to get out-

...and hesitates. He cinches tight on the pull, and backs away to think a moment. After all this time spent desperately looking for his other half,  _ his Guardian,  _ he’s nervous. The horror stories of those preceding him come to the surface of his thoughts; he doesn’t want to end up the Ghost at the end of a barrel like others before. 

He quickly sweeps the area, noting that it’s been picked about as clean as can be. Another scan of the area shows no Fallen in the building at least, and he moves to check outside. Mostly he doesn’t want to come face to face with a caravan and throw his Guardian in empty-handed, but it also helps with clearing his thoughts, as the pull to resurrect his chosen becomes maddening. 

“You are a child of Light, for Traveler’s sake, why are you so nervous?” he asks himself. “You’ve already rehearsed this enough times, just bring the body up and give him the spiel.”

“You have been chosen by the Traveler to wield the Light and stand as a pinnacle against the Dark. I am your Ghost, born of the Traveler’s last stand against the Darkness, and meant to not only guide you on your journey, but to keep you alive and aid you in the process of wielding the awesome power that is the Light!” He hums a moment, then shakes out his shell. 

“This sounds dumb. Oh well, here goes nothing.”

Content with the location being safe, he goes back in, and hovers over the corpse pinned below the support beam. The pull is at its strongest, right above the body, intensifying as he scans over it and lets the Light pulse out of his shell. It funnels into the body below, bringing color back to decayed skin, snapping broken bones in place, and breathing life back into a long dead soul. He’s surprised to see the man is Awoken, and a younger one by the looks of it. He must feel the pressure of the beam that had likely killed him in his past life as he struggles to get out from under it. The gift of Light does not disappoint, granting him the strength to shove the massive beam off, and the wits to scramble away. He flies in close to the man as he lays on his back, and can’t help but exclaim, “Thank the Traveler you were able to get out of that!” 

It’s his mistake. 

The moment he sees the panic register on the man’s face, a bleeding hand knocks him clean out of the air and into a slab of rubble. 

“Ow…” he complains as he gets back to a comfortable height in the air and glares at the man. “I just revived you and you have the audacity to hit me? Ungrateful.” 

He can’t help but sigh at the apologetic noise and confused face his Guardian makes, and whirs over to scan and heal him. His hands are particularly bad, he notes as they’re held up to shield his eyes from the light. “Here, let me just…”

Once his Guardian lowers his freshly healed hands, he continues on his rant. 

“I had this whole speech prepared, and you just had to knock it right out of me, didn’t you? You’re a Guardian… er, Guardian.” Traveler this is embarrassing, it’s as though it’s his first day on the job and not that he’s been rehearsing this for almost a century. “I am a Ghost, well,  _ your _ Ghost, a child of the Traveler. You are one of it’s chosen few, a Hunter, meant to fight back the darkness and maintain balance. Once we get to the city, you’ll begin to understand.” 

He watches as his Guardian takes in what he says, then stares up at the wreckage of the Reef craft. 

“I don’t think that’s going to get us anywhere.” 

He’s ignored.

No one had warned him that the freshly revived had a hard time speaking immediately; nothing is more awkward than meeting your other half, only for them to not be able to quite acknowledge what you’re saying to them. The Hunter seems to have some grasp on priorities at least, as he makes a noise of success when he pulls a rusted compound bow from under a slab of concrete. It’s not much, but it’ll at least help him survive more than five seconds when they start the journey to the Last City. He gets to helping as he can, whizzing around the area and gathering what glimmer and supplies he can find. By the time night falls, there's quite the stash they've made sitting against the I-beam that had his Hunter pinned. He notices that he’s staring very hard at a scrap of paper, the words cut off and faded. He turns away for a moment to transmat another arrow into the spare quiver, when the voice of his Hunter surprises him. 

“K-oa… Kov.. Koval,” he manages, not quite getting the fluent accent of the Awoken, but quite close. He whirls around the Hunter, and comes to a rest a few feet from his face. 

“Is that what you want me to call you?” 

He nods, then points a finger at him. “Lux.” 

“Alright. So you’re Koval, and I’m Lux?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Well. I’ve never had a name before. Lux it is.” 

“Mhm.” 

While Koval goes about picking through his food stash by the firelight, he lowers and ponders his new name. It’s… nice. Thoughtful. It’s him. 

“Get some rest, tomorrow we head for the Last City,” he proclaims, then looks at his partner as fondly as he can with his shell and single mechanical eye. “Oh, one more thing. It’s a pleasure to finally introduce myself to you, Koval.”


	3. Jumpship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Well,_ he thinks, _it's not pretty._

Talking had probably been the easiest hurdle in the beginning. Now that he’s found his voice, it’s easy to pester Lux about every strange new thing he comes across, whether be it decrepit windmills or soaring cranes off in the distance. The Ghost was encouraging in the beginning; now he just seems annoyed each time he starts to ask about a strange rock, or plant, or body. 

“That’s just a dreg, you’ve shot one before,” Lux says as he yanks an arrow free of the creature’s ribcage. It slumps back down, limp and lifeless and oozing viscous maroon from the wound. 

“Well yes, but I’ve never gotten up close. The last one slid off a cliff, remember?”

“Fallen are all fairly similar, especially when they’re trying to kill you.”

“But, it’s those minor differences that might save both of us in the future. I should learn while I can.”

“We’re going to the city, so you can learn there. They offer Introduction to Fallen 101 all the time for freshly rezzed Guardians.”

“If we even make it there.”

“We will.”

“We need a ship first, though, right?”

Lux looks thoughtful for a moment, his shell ticking one way and then the other. 

“There might be something beyond the walls of the Cosmodrome. It could be worth a shot.”

“Then let's go.”

It takes them a day and a half on foot to reach the wall. Lux gets more and more antsy the closer they get, constantly updating the rader in his helmet with anything that moves. As he sets up camp against the towering edge, Lux prattles on about the various Houses of Fallen. “We’re most likely to encounter the House of Devils, you’ll need to be on the lookout for Captains. They’re much bigger than those little Dregs you’ve been encountering lately.” 

“I hope I can find something a bit more heavy duty than this bow then…” he trails off, distracted by the flames of his little campfire. Lux had been a huge help when he got into a fist fight with a Vandal earlier in the day, healing him afterwards with the Light his little shell contained. The warmth from the day previous was borderline addicting, he could feel his strength and own Light grow with every connection he and Lux made. He stares further into the flames, the world falling out around him, only to snap back into focus as the fire crackles and sends a shower of sparks into his outstretched hand. 

“Ow, fuck!” he yelps as the ragged material of his glove goes up in flames. Lux, the little devil, laughs at him as he desperately pats out his hand. 

“That’s no Solar Light, you should be more careful next time.” 

His singed fingers are healed all the same, and he goes back to ignoring the way Lux dives into the recent history of the Cosmodrome in favor of getting some sleep. It’s cold, but with the fire going, and the extra layer of a scavenged cloak from an old Fallen outpost, he knows he’ll make it through the night. 

He feels as though morning comes too early, especially for how little sleep he gets. After the amount of rustling and chatter echoing from inside the walls once the sun went down, he doused the fire and slept with his back against the wall. He kept his bow loaded across his lap, just in case. As the sun breaks over the horizon, he’s glad he hasn’t had to use it. Lux unfolds over his shoulder, whirring off to give him space to stretch.

“How’d you sleep?” 

“I didn’t.” 

“Oh.”

He gives the Ghost a cheeky smile. “Kidding, I slept off and on, too much going on to get a full sleep.” Despite his attitude, his bones were very unhappy with spending the night on cold ground, against a cold wall. “Let's get moving, we have a lot of area to search.” 

It takes them until sun-high to lock onto a trace of a ship. He has to make his way through multiple groups of Fallen even to get close, but it’s certainly well worth the trip. He stumbles across an auto rifle and a rocket launcher on his way through the mess of rusted catwalks and control rooms. The launcher comes in handy fairly quickly as well, as a Walker blocks his way through a courtyard. “Legs first, then the core!” Lux coaches as he takes aim. The shot spirals into two of the right legs, rocking the ground and sending shrapnel and plating flying. The Walker staggers, then drops its front and reveals the superheated core behind its headplate. One more shot, and the entire machine combusts. Fallen close enough to the blast get sent skywards, and he makes a break for the small building where the signal is pulsing from. 

“I can’t believe I did that,” he says once they’re a little ways in.

“It was certainly something, and you didn’t even die!” Lux congratulates him from within his helmet. He’s healed up for the next fight as soon as the Fallen chatter goes down, and goes in guns blazing.

Two quick shots from his bow eliminate the snipers in the back of the room. He switches to his rifle, fires off a magazine, and dodges the hail of arc bolts that return. One catches him in his shoulder, sizzling through the shield Lux has over his body. His hand and arm go numb immediately, but it’s quickly forgotten when a massive Captain drops from the rafters and gargles something at him in Fallen. He’s rushed, then knocked into a pillar as the Fallen backhands him. The air in his lungs leaves him in a  _ whoosh _ . Something cracks as he crumbles to the ground, black swirling through his vision. Fire bleeds into every breath he struggles for through broken ribs. The Captain stalks over, grumbles something, lifts a foot, and makes everything go dark.

* * *

When he opens his eyes again, he feels fine. He can pull a full breath without it feeling as though he’s inhaling glass. Lux hovers in front of him for only a moment before vanishing back into his gear. “I’m still with you. Try not to die again, our ship is just through there.” 

He takes a moment to get his bearings; Lux must have revived him a room back. His Ghost mostly refilled the ammunition in his rifle, but his quiver is a fair bit lighter than before. Oh well.

He gets back in and goes for the Captain first, throwing an explosive knife against the plated helmet. It explodes in a shower of Solar Light, deactivating it’s shield with a  _ whoosh.  _ The Captain staggers. His radar scans it as low health and he lays into it with another two clips from his rifle. One lucky shot to the head ends it all with a howl, ether spilling out over the soil as it falls. 

He gingerly steps over the body on his way through the room. The rest of the Fallen have scattered, he notes as he ducks through a rusted metal wall. As the room opens up, he breathes a sigh of relief. A jumpship, mostly intact, hangs from cables. The ceiling must have collapsed a long time before, but despite the rust and the rubble, he can’t see anything that would hinder them from taking off. Lux unfolds in his outstretched palm, flying up to scan the ship in blue light. 

“It’s old, probably hasn't made a jump in centuries.” Lux turns to look at him. “We’re lucky the Fallen haven’t completely picked it clean.”

“Will it fly?” 

Lux hesitates a moment, thoughtful. His shell spins, and he looks determined. “I can make it work.”

The Ghost transmats into the ship in a flash of light. After a few moments, he hears consoles chirping, and the twin engines start to spin up. The jumpship hums to life the faster the turbines spin, until eventually, the ship breaks free of the cabling. He takes a step back. 

“Okay, it’s not going to break orbit, but it just might get us to The City. Now, about that transmat...” Lux’s voice comes through his helmet feed, backed by the growls of Fallen. They must have regrouped, he realizes. He turns, bow ready to defend his rusty new ship. Just as a much bigger Captain squeezes its way through the hole, Lux calls out, “Bringing you in!” 

His entire body feels like he’s walking through a sheer curtain. His vision wavers and comes back to the cockpit of the jumpship. “You alright? That was close.”

Arc bolts ricochet off the hull of the Arcadia Class as they pull out of the crumbling building, leaving clouds of dust in their wake. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

“We can come back when you’re ready. Let's get you home.”

Lux talks him through the various protocols and buttons before he actually takes the controls, and yet, muscle memory takes over. He keeps them steady through the miasma that swirls over the mountains, carefully weaving through the clouds and lightning. 

“Maybe you were a pilot in your first life, even if you do fly a little fast.”

“Maybe,” he chuckles. 

When the Arcadia Class finally pierces the eye of the storm, he’s breathless. The Light in his chest swells and pulls, straight towards the massive sphere hanging over a sprawling cityscape. The walls around the base of the valley feel imposing, and yet, he knows it’s safe here. 

A voice, feminine with an accent, comes crackling over the console comms. “Arcadia Class, please identify and reduce speed.”

“Arcadia Class to Tower Shipwright, this is Ghost SN-4898, requesting permission to land via Tower North Hanger.”

“Well well, little light, finally find yourself the one?” 

“Yes ma’am, bringing him home.”

“Permission to land granted. Proceed to Bay 5 of Hanger North, and Guardian, reduce your speed for pete’s sake.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he replies rather sheepishly, and follows the coordinates to the Hanger as they come through. The landing is certainly less than stellar when one of the rusted pieces of gear’s landing frame snaps as the ship starts to rest against it. Nothing else seems to be broken as he’s transmatted out, right in front of a pretty human with blonde hair and a scarf. 

“Nice flying out there Guardian, although that landing leaves something to be desired.”

“Trust me, I know,” he says, looking back at the poor Arcadia. 

“I’ll get my crews on it, don’tcha worry. Name’s Amanda Holliday, yours?”

“Koval.”

“Well Koval, glad you made it in mostly one piece. Welcome to the Last City.”


	4. Solar / Arc / Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Light can take many forms, but we all have our favorites.

The Solar Light is the first thing he masters. It comes to him as easy as breathing, the way the flaming hand cannon forms in his hands. At first his shots are wild, unfocused. The ringing in his ears after the first six shots lasts for days afterwards. Over time, it gets easier to wield the weapon ofLlight, to hone his accuracy with every precious, flaming bullet. The Celestial Nighthawk helmet he picks up from the mysterious Xür forces him even further with the Golden Gun, giving him only one round in the chamber, and a promise of lethality as long as he makes it count. 

He enjoys the throwing knives, especially in the Crucible. It’s entertaining to stick two on a door, bait his opponents through, and hear the telltale proximity alarms go off. By then, it’s too late. Lord Shaxx hoots and hollers in his ear at the plays, and after the dust settles, he tends to get a few “Congrats” from his fellow teammates.The only downside is when he misjudges the distance between him and his foe, which has resulted in multiple embarrassing deaths as the knife explodes in both of their faces. It’s a fun little way to play the field, and while he knows he’s not the best against his fellow guardians, it’s still rewarding as he figures out new traps and tricks.

His swarm grenades save his ass more times than he cares to count. As soon as they hit the ground, he prefers to take off in a different direction. They make for a good cover, usually distracting whatever is chasing him enough to get to better ground and reload his weapons. Of the various grenades Lux can manifest, they are definitely his favorite.

* * *

It takes him a bit longer to get used to being an Arcstrider. The smell of ozone and rain clings to his armor, and he shocks himself on more control panels and light switches than he cares to admit. Lux tends to laugh at him when he takes off his helmet, and rather than his hair being matted down, it frizzes like he stuck a fork in an outlet. The actual rhythm of the staff takes a few tries to get right. It’s more of a dance than a combat maneuver, the way he spins both the staff and his body. Arc energy is a wild beast in his hands, and he fights hard to keep the electricity under his control. 

The flux grenades don’t work quite as well as his preferred Solar swarm ones, but they get the job done well enough. He can’t help but enjoy the smell of rain and lightning they bring, as well as the smell of cooked meats. He feels a bit guilty about the latter. 

What he was surprised to enjoy and quickly get the hang of was the fact that he could punch an enemy and vaporize them. It’s a new experience when his fist connects that the Dreg on the other end goes flying, its body dissolved by Arc Light. He laughs, startled and quite literally shocked, and immediately tries it again. The second time, he ends up in a fist fight with a Captain that he loses, badly. Lux makes sure he learns his lesson that it takes time to reaccumulate that Arc charge after he uses it once.

* * *

The Void is easy to embrace, but hard to master. Thanks to his Awoken blood, he toes the line between the Light and Dark easily, but the pull of the Void is a difficult thing to resist. When the legendary Shadowshot forms in his hands, it feels like it was made for him. The anchor that he releases meets its mark on the Minotaur’s shield, and the second and third rip it apart. The Vex shrieks as it’s torn in two, and the rest of the advancing waves back off. He feels enough energy to fire off two more shots, trapping the remaining Goblins in place and filling their soft radiolorian centers with holes. 

The first time he uses a Vortex grenade, he feels sick to his stomach. It bursts too close to him, the swirling Void Light pulling and plucking at his very being. Thankfully it doesn’t last too long, and it does its job in consuming the oncoming Thrall. He throws the next one much farther, and marvels at the tiny black hole that sticks against the Ogre as it advances. 

Lux yells at him when he uses the smoke bombs too frequently. The Void has a very distinct way it clings to his skin and armor, and he trails wisps of purple smoke for hours after he’s used one too many. The invisibility is incredibly handy in an emergency situation, and after he wastes a smoke bomb, then dies when he’s expecting another too soon, he learns to conserve them a bit better. 


	5. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light is the best way to chase away the shadows.

When he wakes, it's cold. The hum of the City's generators thrums beneath his feet, but the artificial heat does nothing to dispel the icy shadows looming over him. 

"Koval?" His Ghost, Lux asks. 

"Nothing, it's nothing." 

"You were muttering in your sleep again." 

"You need to stop watching me sleep. It’s creepy." 

"Only once you stop breaking your ankles with every high jump." The sass gets a laugh out of him for the first time in a while. 

Behind his eyelids comes the soft light from overhead; Lux must have turned on his lamp. 

"It's just the usual dream again. Turn out the light, Lux." 

"No, come on. You know what you need." 

He squints briefly once he opens his eyes. It's bright, bordering on painful despite its comfort. 

"Alright. Let's go then." 

Each step is as cold as the last as he heads towards the courtyard attached to the sleeping quarters. One of the frames on guard waves to him in greeting, a gesture returned with a barely stifled yawn. Lux is ever present by his side, white shell reflecting in the beams of light they pass through. 

"I think you should stop participating in Gambit, at least for a little while." 

"I think you should mind your own business." 

"I resurrected you. You are my business." 

Once they reach his usual spot, palms a little sore from a scrabble up one side of the Tower, he lets out a sigh. Up at the very top, he feels like he can almost reach out and touch the Traveler. His Light thrums in tune with the heated vents below his feet, chasing away the last of the shadows that have lingered far too long this night. 

They only stay a little longer, leaving the highest point so some other Guardian touched in shade can reconnect too in peace. It's comforting, he thinks as he meanders back to his bunk, he isn't the only one who feels the weight growing heavier by the day.

"Think you'll be able to get back to sleep now?" 

"Hopefully, we have a patrol at dawnbreak." 

"Goodnight, Koval."

There's some rustling as Lux settles down to do whatever Ghosts do during the night, but he tunes it out easily as he settles back into his bed. The night isn't nearly as cold anymore.


	6. Off Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Hunter always loves the chase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following piece features some mildly explicit sex, and is where the E rating really starts to come in.
> 
> Proceed with cation, or don't, whatever your cup of tea.

He's at a den, a couple drinks in and his Ghost flitting around others, when a pretty hunter drops onto the bench next to him. She's human, sleek black hair tucked into a bun and bangs just brushing above her jade eyes. Out slides a knife, tapping his cup and then sliding under his chin with the blunt edge. 

"Come here often?"

"Depends on the day I've had," he responds, meeting that green gaze. 

"Maybe I can make today a little better, hotshot." 

There's a hand on his armored leg, fingers dancing along the inside seam. He gives her a bit of a smile, teeth sunk into his lower lip when he catches her look. She gives his thigh a good squeeze.

"Let's get out of here." 

As she gets up to leave, knife tucked back into her belt, he turns to his Ghost and calls, "Lux, watch my drink and helmet please." 

There's a grumble as the Ghost in the metallic shell leaves its conversation, floating back over to eye him in glowing blue. "Be back soon," the Ghost mutters with a bite. He flashes the machine a smile, turning to chase after the cloak trailing out the front door. 

From that moment, the chase is on. 

The two weave through streets and late night crowds, looping back every now and then. She's always a couple steps out of reach. It's just enough to keep him on his toes as he continues to pursue her, pulse pounding from exertion and anticipation. 

The chase is always one of the best parts.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of weaving through the empty streets and alleys of the Last City, he's close enough to take a flying leap, catching her around the middle and sending them both tumbling. Their armor clinks as metal meets metal and plating scrapes ground. For a moment, they wrestle on the concrete, until he manages the upper hand and handles her into a pin. Their chests touch as they breathe, his form blocking out the sickly amber light above. 

"Got you," he breathes into her ear.

"You certainly do."

"What's my prize, love?" 

"You'll find out."

She turns her head, catching the corner of his mouth with a kiss sweeter than expected. He turns to meet her fully, melting against her as she presses up. One of her hands is freed as he braces against the ground to avoid crushing her completely, only to have him melt back down when she scritches the shaved portion of his scalp. They kiss a while longer, right up until she brushes her nails under his chin and he can't help the twitch of his hips and moan that startles out of him. She pushes him up with a sly smile, jade eyes appreciative of the shadows cast when he sits back on his haunches. 

"Stand up, handsome." 

He does as she asks. Despite his outstretched hand, she stays on the concrete, looking him up and down with a fervor in her eyes.

"You might want to find a wall too." 

Once again, he complies. She follows him over, still on her padded knees and as soon as his back meets brick, she's on him. First goes his utility belt, knife and all discarded to the side. Then the protective plating around his torso. He helps her with the last bit, shoving his pants just far enough down his ass that his cock bobs over the waistline. He's never been more thankful for a longer cloak keeping his skin from cold stone behind him. 

"Damn, you Awoken are so pretty," she says as she gets a hand around him. Whether it's in reference to his pearlescent skin or the sound that leaves his throat, he'll never know. 

"You should speak for yourself," he barely manages to get out as she really starts to work him. It's impossible to hold back the whimpers and whines, especially as her lips start to leave a scattered trail across overheated skin. "Oh, just like that, ah, fuck."

His head scrapes against the alley wall with each particularly strong suck. After a moment to breathe, she redoubles her efforts, either determined to give him the best night of his life, or bring all of the City to investigate. He raises a shaky hand, tears a glove off with his teeth, and weaves his bare fingers through her dark hair. He doesn't pull. Doesn't tighten his grip. Just brushes her bangs from her face and tries to restrain the cant of his hips. His other hand sinks into the brick, inhuman strength crumbling the outer layer into dust under his fingertips. 

Flames dance under his skin as he closes in on his end. He does try to warn her, a gentle but steady pressure against her shoulder and a choked out warning all he can muster under her attention. It's no use, as she continues on as the bowstring snaps and he swears. Once the fire and light die down she pulls off with that sly smile, only a single pearly drop left on her lips. He tugs her to her feet before she has a chance to wipe her mouth, his tongue flicking out to clean up the rest of his mess. They kiss a while longer; he's even tucked back in with gentle hands, even if the sneaky squeeze to his ass is a little less than merciful. 

"Thank you," he breaths against her lips when they part.

"I should be the one thanking you, certainly made my night much better." 

"Can I do anything for you?"

"Trust me, I'm quite alright. You should be getting back to your Ghost anyways." She chuckles as he lets her go, bringing a hand up to drag a nail under his chin, the same way she did with her knife.

"Next time then," he offers, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles before she can go. 

"I'll see you around, handsome, try not to get killed out there." 

With that, she's gone, cloak trailing around a corner as he stays behind to catch his breath.

* * *

He returns to the den a while later. Wolf whistles and jeers greet him at the door, to which he throws a finger and laughs along with. 

"Had a fun time I suppose?" 

"So long as my drink wasn't spiked while I was out, I had a fantastic one." 

"No promises."

"Lux."

"Your poor choices are not my responsibility," the Ghost chides, whirring over to bump the helmet in his direction. 

"Can we go home now?" 

He finishes his drink in one swig, then pulls on his helmet and hood. 

"Yeah, let's go."


	7. Fireteam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe having friends won't be such a bad thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its time to meet the rest of Fireteam Realm!

"Transmat in three, two, one!” 

"Eyes up, Koval," the Titan calls as they drop. Maybe he had been staring too much, maybe the Titan was really attractive to the point of being distracting, the world may never know. There's a rip of gunfire as the two up ahead begin the assault into the base, barely muted twangs of ricochet fire off to his left. A few arrows fly from his bow, shafts splitting as they arc into the enemy lines. Electricity jumps between the Thralls with a flash of light. He's almost ashamed to say that his stomach rumbles when he boosts over the still smoking bodies. 

Then, the Titan crash lands beside him and pipes up, "What's cooking, good looking?" and he feels solar energy engulf his face and fingertips in embarrassment. 

"Thrall guts." The deadpan to his voice doesn't seem to deter the Titan, as he lofts his rifle and turns on his heel back to the battle at hand. 

"What a chef you must be," he jokes, then breaks in a sprint for their poor Warlock holding down the fort alone. 

"Fight now, flirt later!" Comes crackling over their coms, followed by the growl of a Knight and the static of their Titan's Arc ability evaporating it. He takes a deep breath, then follows after, refusing to be shown up by some Striker Titan on a routine patrol.

* * *

"I cannot believe you landed two inches from my face. Do you have any idea how stupid that was?" Ari, the Warlock as he would later find out, chides them both over their dinner. 

Talson looks down at his noodles and snickers. "Yeah, but your expression made it all worth it, love." Ari scoffs. 

"At least Koval had your ass covered out there." 

"Psh, I would have been fine." 

"I had to snipe six Thrall off you in your shoddy attempt at flirting.” 

“Hey now, Ari here was absolutely swooning.” Talson slings an arm around her, only to yelp as she digs her chopsticks into his bicep. “Ow ow ow! Hey, quit it!” 

A light chuckle escapes his throat at the display, which shocks the two across the booth into silence. 

“What?” he asks.

Talson is the first to pick up his jaw from the table. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Do what?” 

“Laugh, express emotion, not be a stereotypical Hunter?” Ari snickers at the comment

He crosses his arms and scowls down at his pork bowl. “Ha ha, not like I’m a person too or anything.” 

“There’s the Koval we patrolled with today!” 

“You Hunters are so moody, did you Ghosts rez you not knowing how to take a joke?” Talson laughs with Ari at the ribbing, and he wishes he still had his cloak on to hide in. He knows they’re just joking, sure, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to have a pretty Titan and a cutthroat Warlock laughing about him fitting the stereotypes of his class. Regardless, it's… nice. In its own masochist way. 

Talson kicks his shin lightly under the table. When he looks up, the Titan is smiling softly, head cocked to the side. It's almost as if he’s silently asking if he’s okay. 

“Not like yours brought you back with a sense of humor.” 

Talson is loud as he laughs at the comeback, whereas Ari looks impressed with it. It takes them a while to settle down again, but when they do, Ari and Talson shift the conversation to the highlights of the Crucible match on the VanNET. He scoffs, rolls his eyes at the two, and goes back to his dinner. 

* * *

It's no surprise they end up teamed together again, not after the raging successes they’ve been having for weeks now. It’s rare to find a group that works so seamlessly, and even rarer to find one that hangs out in their free time as well. 

He comes to learn various things about his friends, as much as it's a shock to call them that. 

Ari, a Kinderguardian as Talson has nicknamed her, was reborn after becoming casualty of the Red War, and was one of the few who chose not to chase her past, despite Zavala’s blessing. Talson, a survivor, had been one of the brave to help on the assault to take back the city, despite the loss of his light several months earlier. He had chosen not to share that he had been the one to cut Ghaul down, both to avoid the inevitable accusations of lying or the starstruck looks. He does share his loss of his favorite den in the attack, and spins a tale of working in the Underground as a scout for the large majority of the siege. 

He learns that Talson hates red onion after a stop for a bite to eat and watching him sadly pick off the tiny chopped pieces. He learns that Ari bets heavily on her favorite Crucible competitors, and is very good at making predictions on which team will come out on top. He learns that Talson is very touchy-feely, and Ari is not. Ari prefers hand cannons, Talson would rather run in with his bare fists. He’s careful to keep his own cards close to his chest, as Cayde would say, but he knows they pick up on his preferences all the same.

* * *

Spring heats up into summer, summer fades into fall, and before he knows it, the Dawning is upon them. Ari suggests they spend their collective days off at her apartment in the City, and it's nice. He’s too distracted by the smell of desserts and the music Talson demanded they stream to feel the usual pressure of the walls. He still ends up on the balcony every other night looking up at the Traveler’s fractured form, but it’s easier to reorient when Ari joins him with a book in silence, or Talson pesters him into light conversation. 

As with the spirit of the season, he gifts Talson the newest Northlight Helm ornament, and Ari a collection of old world tomes he’d recovered from Venus many years ago and hid for safekeeping. He is a little ashamed to admit that he’s shocked when he wakes up with a drink shoved into his hands and a gift from them each as well, a new festive shell for Lux and a set of the ugliest Dawning socks he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Talson. You shouldn't have.” He barely conceals the mirth behind his deadpan expression. It’s hard while he drinks one of Ari’s homemade spiked cider brews.

“Traveler you're right, where the hell did you find those?”

“I commissioned Grandma Eva, I’ll have you know,” he pouts, arms crossed. 

He laughs. It starts as a chuckle like they’ve heard before, but this time it develops into full-blown, body-shaking, tears-in-his-eyes laughter. Ari joins along, and eventually after giving them a good glaring, Talson does too. There’s no way in hell he could have gotten these from Eva Levante, she sooner would have chopped all her fingers off than make these horrific things. His laughter subsides only after he’s wincing from stitches in his sides, and he manages to wipe his face. 

“Bullshit. She would never,” he says as he turns the offending items in his hands. 

“Check the tag.” 

He begins laughing anew as he looks at the little hand sewn tag on the left one’s opening.  _ Happy Dawning! With love, EL.  _ “H-how much?” he barely manages to gasp out, “How much did sh-she charge you-ou?” 

“An arm and a leg because she hated the colors so much.  _ I _ think they look nice with your whole getup, Koval. Yeesh.” 

“Awww, he likes you,” Ari purposely drags out the aww-ing, elbowing him in the ribs. Secretly, deep down, he really, really likes the socks. They’re forest green and gold, with white and bright blue crossed Hunter knives and skulls stitched in along the bridge of the foot. Crimson red and orange Solar emblems decorate the hem, alternated by a golden gun. 

“Talson. I wear black and gold.”

“And they add a nice inner splash of color. If you really hate them that much I’ll take them back to Grandma Eva.” 

“Absolutely not.” He smacks Talson’s grabby hands and pulls the socks close to his chest. 

“Careful, or you might get knifed if you try that again.” Ari snickers, then starts to tear open her two gifts from them. She’s beyond grateful for the books, flipping through them with a childlike glee at the diagrams and illustrations. He smiles sheepishly when she thanks him, eyes averted; she’s beyond adorable as she hugs the books close and twists from side to side. When she rips open the soft package from Talson, they both howl with laughter. Out tumbles a matching set of horrific colored, Warlock themed socks, this time decorated in sparkly purple, red, blue and yellow in the same striped fashion as his own. 

“Please tell me you have a set too, oh Traveler,” she pleads, wiping away a tear from laughing so hard. 

“Well duh.” Sure enough, Talson pulls his own little package out and proudly shows his set, mostly red with dashes of baby blue, black, and fluorescent green. His socks have a little Arc symbol and a fist punching… something, (the ground maybe?) at the top and sparrows circling the bridge of the sock. He’s in tears, Talson is puffing his chest proudly, and Ari is a heap on the floor, thumbing her little Nova Bombs and Void emblems on her socks. 

Talson demands they all put them on immediately, and he’s shocked at how comfortable they are. Ari keeps sticking her foot up for them to admire “the prettiest of the bunch”. He can’t decide if the light feeling in his stomach is from the unfamiliar alcohol in his system, or the love he feels for his fireteam making itself known as they all goof around.

It’s one of the best days of his second life. 


	8. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The noise as she hits it and crumples into the pool of starlit blue water makes him sick to his stomach, makes him angry. 

While the break for the Dawning is nice, the following morning finds them all groggily reporting for an operation on Io. Talson won’t stop complaining of a headache, Ari keeps falling asleep in her chair, and he just wants to go back to the warmth of his blanket cocoon on Ari’s couch. 

“Asher has reported the Taken on Io are behaving more erratically than usual,” Ikora says as she turns to the projection of the fossil planet, studying it closely. “You’ll be dropping outside of the Terrabase. Head down into the Wraith Mines and you should find whatever is going on. Watch each other’s backs, as if I have to remind your team.. Dismissed.”

* * *

The jump is a quiet one. Ari is too busy catching up on lost sleep and Talson is trying to figure out how to equip the Northlight Ornament to his helm. Lux has the controls, so he pushes away from the console to fiddle with his loadout. “Lots of Taken, I’ll need something heavy, something good for the Thralls, and something for up close.” He digs through the storage as he mutters, finding a Trinity Ghoul, Falling Guillotine, and his favorite Braytech Werewolf. 

“Koval, getting ready to drop jump, you wanna get up here?”

He looks up from his rummaging, tucking away his weapons for later. “On it.”

Lux turns the controls over to him. Reentry is a little shaky at best; the Arcadia class rattles and groans as the reverse thrust kicks in. 

“Might need to talk to Amanda’s crew about a tune up,” he notes absently as the trio of ships descends into the atmosphere. Once they're close enough for transmat, they hit the drop point. Dust kicks up in the wake of the ships, taken off to safekeeping at Asher’s base near the Pyramidion. 

“Ari?” he asks, voice laced with mirth, “You awake?” 

“Yeah yeah, lefs do thifs,” she tries to snap back through a yawn. The Warlock racks her menacing looking Tarrabah and takes point as usual. Talson brings up the rear of their fireteam, his own Xenophage strapped across his back. 

The fight through the first wave of enemies is an easy one. Talson bodyslams the largest of the Knights, only to get knocked back as it explodes in a shower of Arc and starlight. He keeps the waves of shifting Thrall at bay with the split shafts of his Trinity Ghoul. The scene is almost like the time they were all first paired together, only this time, they don’t make it soon enough to keep the Taken from overwhelming their tired Warlock. 

They should have known her exhaustion is getting the better of her when they get separated down in the mines. As he makes a dive around a corner, he’s just in time to see a Phalanx shield bash Ari into the wall below his outcrop. The noise as she hits it and crumples into the pool of starlit blue water makes him sick to his stomach, makes him angry. 

“Ari, get up!” He yells over the comms to no avail. 

“ _Koval, what's going on?_ ” 

“Ari is down in the central chamber. No sign of Sol. The Darkness is oppressive in here.” 

“ _Dammit. I’ll be there as fast as I can. How many targets?_ ” 

“Three Knights, a handful of Phalanxes, and more Thrall than I can count.”

“ _Do what you can from your position, and hold until I get there. Understood_?”

“Loud and clear.”

He takes out a Thrall away from the group to charge his bow, then slings as many electrified arrows as he can into the crowd below. The Phalanxes bellow and lock their shields around… something in the center, cutting him off from the Knights as they chant in Hivespeak. He certainly wishes he had something a bit more heavy duty on him right about now. Just as a portal blossoms into view, Talson comes rocketing into the cavern. Arc energy crackles around him and fills the air with ozone and petrichor. Two Phalanxes are vaporized instantly, and the Thrall shriek and descend on the Titan in droves. The two starlit shields fall and open the way for a massive Taken Wizard to tear through the portal in the center. It howls with anger, and he yells back in his own rage, sword drawn from along his back. He drops from the ledge and into the glittering pool, and charges.

The fight is long, and the Wizard is a cruel foe to face. Lux tags it as Iraz, an Eye of Savathun, and they struggle to put it down. Ari is revived only after they clear the room of other hostiles, dazed and confused but eager to fight. He misses the last bit of the battle when a Thrall latches onto his back and rips and tears until the pain makes his world go dark. 

When he comes to, Talson blindsides him with a hug, catching the horns on the Northlight helmet in the horns of his own cloak. Ari chides them as she helps sort out the tangled mess, and yet, he’s just glad she’s okay. 

“One hug because you scared the shit out of me.”

“Fine.” 

“Group hug!” Talson pipes up, and drags her in by her neck. 

All three of their Ghosts join the pile in the bottom of the Wraith Mines, surrounded by glittering blue pools, fossils, and voids of sterile neutrinos. 


	9. Dance Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dance, Hunter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update two days in a row? Uh oh, not like I'm avoiding anything right?

"Ari, do you know how to dance?” Talson’s voice is clear, if a bit tinny through the helmet awareness mode as they clean up after a particularly easy patrol. He hesitates behind the corner, unsure of if he’s intruding on the moment. 

“I mean, I certainly can’t dance like you or Koval, but I know a few styles.”

“Do you want to learn?” 

“What, right now?” 

“Why not?” 

If he knows Talson well, and he does, the Titan must be bursting with energy after such a boring run around the EDZ. 

Ari sounds exasperated with his relentless energy. “Alright, what do you want to teach me?” 

“Yes! Okay! This is one Tess taught me.” There’s clattering as things are moved around to make way for the impromptu dance lessons, then a rhythmic tapping of Talson’s boots begins. He can see the dance in his mind’s eye; it’s very… leggy. Ari laughs loudly at the display. 

“You are not teaching me that one. Absolutely not. You could try to learn this one.” 

It's hard to hear the way she moves, but he can imagine it’s fairly elegant and slow from what he’s seen before. He chances a look around the corner, and appreciates the way Ari dances around the small space. Talson has his back to him, and as Ari spins she catches sight of him. Talson sees the way she pauses for a moment, and turns to look where her gaze is fixed. He must look comical, the beak of the Celestial Nighthawk and the one of his horns just barely poking around the corner. 

“Koval,” Talson drags his name out, trotting his way, “You're going to show off your best moves, right?” 

He stays quiet, slowly backing away from the corner and making a run for the front of the ship. 

He hears Talson growl, “Oh no you don’t,” and is halfway up the ladder when he’s plucked off like a berry on a branch. He’s slung over the shoulder of the Titan, thankful for his helmet keeping the thick mass of feathers out of his mouth. Ari snorts as they come back around the corner, and he’s dropped unceremoniously onto his feet. 

“Dance, Hunter,” Ari says, and flicks a bit of Void Light at his feet. 

“Sheesh, fine.” The dance is a fast one, thankfully Lux plays a bit of music through his helmet to help him with the rhythm. Talson blocks his way from retreating back to the safety of the cockpit when he finishes, arms crossed. 

“I’ve made an executive decision. Wolfe, some music please.” The quiet Ghost flits up through the mantle of feathers, shell pulsing as they start to play an easy beat. 

Ari grabs his hands, forcing him to jump around and move while Talson does his leggy dance once more. It takes him a few songs, but eventually he warms up to the beats and the music, dancing along with both of them. 

The look on Cayde-6’s face when Lux patches his holocall through to the little party in his jumpship is arguably the best part of the entire patrol. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, we get to meet Talson's Ghost!


	10. Dearest Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Make a wish, _o reader mine._

He wishes he asked Talson to come with him. 

He wishes he had hugged Ari before he left, despite her protests.

He wishes his comms were functioning. 

He wishes he packed a better loadout.

He wishes the Darkness wasn’t so oppressive.

He wishes his second life had gone differently.

He wishes he hadn’t left Lux at that terminal.

He wishes the searing fire along the right side of his body would fade.

He wishes he knew where his right arm was.

He wishes the blood dripping out of the hole in his shattered visor would stop.

He wishes for the cold embrace of death to take him already.

He wishes his Fireteam would save him.

He wishes for Lux’s safety over his own.

He wishes the Knight that cleaved his arm off would stop looking at him like he’s food.

He desperately wishes that this isn’t the end.

His world fades to black.

* * *

His world is brought back in a brilliant flash of light.

He sees Talson leave a massive crater in the center of the Hive swarm. 

He returns Ari’s embrace, relishing in her tight grip. 

He hears the chatter of Ari and Talson clearly through his comms.

He watches as Talson tears apart the rest of the Knights and Thrall in weapons doused in Light.

He feels the way the Darkness is beaten back with every blow delivered to its servants.

He wouldn’t trade anything for this.

He sees Lux spin around him, relief evident in his blue optic.

He feels at the top of his form.

He tangles the fingers of his right hand into Ari’s silky black hair.

He presses his restored visor against her shoulder.

He breathes deep, filling his lungs with life.

He feels safe with his Fireteam at his side.

He knows Lux is behind all of this, despite the risk he must have taken.

He almost laughs as Talson hefts the Knight’s sword and eviscerates an advancing Ogre.

He lets go of Ari, takes a deep breath, and faces his next beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An experimental piece based loosely around on the structure of the _Wall of Wishes_ lorebook. 
> 
> Three days in a row, woot! I wish I wasn't avoiding the next piece in Koval's memories.


	11. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not fair to him and his stupid heart longing for two people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too excited to post this, so minor changes my be happening tonight when my beta has a chance to look this over.

It starts slowly. 

At first he tries to push the feelings down, it’s not like he can have  _ both _ of them. Then, when he’s a blushing mess whenever Ari compliments him, or Talson goes for a shoulder hug, he distances himself. The Vanguard is never short on operations or patrols or scouting, all things he can do himself. On the rare occasions he does manage to let himself be convinced to return, to not sleep on the shelf in his ship’s cargo bay while hanging just barely in orbit, he starts to notice things.

Talson’s few possessions make their way into Ari’s apartment, and hell, he’s not even sure the Titan still has his own home outside of Ari’s. He sees the way Ari pulls Talson out the door, fingers looped together for just a simple market run. He sees the way their lives intertwine deeper and deeper with every time he dares to return.

What’s worse is how they don’t stop when he is around. 

He knows he doesn’t stay as much as Talson, even before he felt the need to shove away these stupid feelings, and he knows that it’s not Ari’s fault she lives just close enough to the walls that he can feel the itch to escape bubbling under his skin. He knows he’s taking too many trips and solo missions and that his Fireteam misses him. Yet when he’s on Ari’s couch and she offers him the guest room and Talson  _ isn’t leaving _ , he knows something is going on between them and he makes up some half-hearted excuse about needing to leave that very minute and not be around them. 

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair to him and his stupid heart longing for two people.

It’s not fair to Talson that Ari still joins him for quiet balcony nights and shoves him over to press her back against his side under the guise of “It’s cold, Gunslinger.”

It’s not fair to Ari that Talson still yells “We love you, don’t die!” whenever he hears the sound of his boots out the door as he leaves for beyond the walls once again. 

It’s not fair that they still make every effort to include him in their little piece of paradise, and he feels like an intruder.

“It’s just, not fair,” he doesn’t quite sob as he’s pulling his ship back into orbit, tears blurring his vision. 

“I think you need to talk with them,” Lux says gently and bumps his jaw with the top of the curl of his metallic hat. “I’ve been talking with Sol and Wolfe, and they all miss having you around.”

“I’ll think about it,” and he leaves it at that.

* * *

It takes three weeks until he dares show his face in person.

He’s kept up with Ari and Talson through their private channel, sure, but he winces at how clipped his responses are, and how worried their tones are when he informs them that he’s still not dead. 

“Zavala’s got something lined up for us if you can make it back in the next few days,” Ari says.

“I’m on a supply run for Holliday. I won’t be back for another week depending on what shape this stash is in.”

“Oh, I’ll let him know.” The interplanetary static does nothing to cover up how crestfallen she sounds.

* * *

“Koval, you iridescent bastard, pick up your com!” Talson’s voice startles him out of his nap.

“Wha- oh, hey Talson.” 

“You were supposed to be back last Saturday, what is going on?” 

The fatigue from running nonstop patrols and cache recoveries finally catches up with him, and he slips. “Depends on what’s going on with you and Ari,” he mutters bitterly.

“...What was that?”

_ Fuck. _

“I-”

“Is that really why you’ve been basically ghosting us?” 

He can’t lie to Talson, he’s never been able to. “Maybe,” he settles on after a pregnant pause.

“She’s worried sick, y’know.” He can see the way Talson settles into whatever chair he’s probably sitting in, his handheld comm device tucked between his shoulder and jaw, a far off look in his minty green eyes. His tone is gentle, almost remorseful in a way. “She keeps asking me if this is her fault, if we were too forward or not forward enough.” 

“She’s always been an overthinker,” he replies, head hung. He can’t even bear to look Talson’s smiling VanNET picture in the eyes.

“Koval, please don’t let Ari and I’s relationship come between our Fireteam. Your friendship is just as important to us, and we miss you. Come home.” 

He sighs, chest heavy with the knowledge that he’s definitely been hurting his friends. 

After a moment, “Okay. Give me a day to get things wrapped up. I’ll call when I’m in orbit.”

“Thank you,” Talson says, and the line goes dead.

* * *

“Lux, you’re in deep shit for patching that through.”

* * *

The moment he steps off the cargo ramp the next day, he’s blindsided by a bear hug from the Titan. His bones creak, and he worries about the contents of his pack being squished, but for a moment, he lets himself enjoy the contact and scent of petrichor that clings to Talson’s hair and civvies. Only once he can feel the questioning looks from the ground crew does he wiggle free and take a step back. 

“Ah, where’s Ari?” he asks, pointedly looking at the ground to not let the maroon on his cheeks show. 

“She’s at the Bazaar, something about making me cook dinner tonight,” Talson explains as they walk. He looks almost stressed over the possible responsibility of feeding the Fireteam. “She said something about it being an Old Russia recipe she found in one of her Warlock circles. Spartan-4 made it during their last Class catch up, and now she expects me to get it as perfect as they did.” 

He snickers at the display, chest warm. Talson has never been the best cook; anything he makes has a fifty-fifty shot of coming out inedible. But, at least he can cook. If Ari were left to fend for herself, she'd likely be Glimmer-broke within weeks of ordering out for every meal. Him? He prefers scavenging in the wilds to City food, but a hot meal not cooked with his own Solar Light is always a welcome change. 

“Ari must really trust you then, stars know dinner’s always a gamble with you.” He takes the chance and nudges Talson’s side with his elbow.

“Hey!”

“Am I wrong?” 

Talson laughs but doesn’t reply, and they continue the walk in almost comfortable silence. The Traveler greets them as they duck out of the ground floor of the Tower West, it’s fractured pieces catching the weak afternoon sunlight as they orbit above. He’s so lost in his own thoughts as they turn the corner onto Ari’s street that he misses Talson drifting closer and closer, until his fingertips are shocked by a small spark of Arc Light. It doesn’t hurt, but it certainly snaps him back to the present.

“Sorry, sorry!” the Striker Titan apologizes immediately and puts two steps of space between them. He brushes it off in the moment, but as Talson shakily pulls out his keys and makes a break for the door up, he can see the tell-tale signs of nerves in his movements. 

Talson is not a nervous person usually, he can’t help but consider as they make their way up the stairs. From the flashy flirting to the easy affection Talson’s always displayed, even before all of this mess between them, never once has he given off the impression of being unsure or worried about his actions. He’s a loveable goofball that shamelessly uses cheesy one-liners and tells the entire system that he loves it. Even in the quiet moments in between all the bravado, he always seems so sure of his actions, and he never hesitates. 

_ Maybe it’s a part of being a Guardian _ , he thinks,  _ hesitation can get you killed out there, after all.  _

But that’s also just who Talson is as a person.  _ So why would he be so nervous now? _

He thinks hard about the fact that they had been  _ much  _ closer together compared to when they had first started their walk, and the way the static had jumped between his and Talson’s fingertips. 

_ Was he trying to grab my hand? _

_ He was  _ definitely  _ trying to grab my hand. _

The thoughts move at a rapid-fire pace, and he almost trips up the stairs as his attention strays. 

“Careful,” Talson chides from the next landing, but the words have no bite. “These stairs will easily give you a bloody nose.”

“Talking from experience?” 

“Maybe, maybe not,” he says with a cheeky smile thrown over his shoulder. 

He grimaces when his ears tips start to warm.  _ Damn him.  _ Talson thankfully doesn’t turn back around, instead focusing on finding and unlocking Ari’s front door. They beat their Warlock home by only a few minutes, barely enough time for him to choke out the excuse of needing to shower and Lux to transmat away everything besides the bodysuit he wears below the armor. He can hear through the bathroom door as the front door creaks open, and Ari calls out a muffled greeting. His heart jumps into his throat. 

“What do I have to promise to get you to transmat me out of here?” he asks Lux as he stares down the Ghost’s reflection in the mirror. 

“I’m not going to, you need to have this conversation. I promise, it’s going to be a good thing. But you should actually shower first, I don't even have to have a nose to tell that you stink.”

“You’re never any help,” he grumbles, and flips on the faucet. 

He goes through the motions of cleaning away the dirt and grime of a long trip as quick as he can, mindful of Ari’s limited supply of hot water. The warmth and the oils in his soaps soothe the aches deep in his muscles, but he can’t ever seem to get rid of the line of tension that runs across his shoulders. For all the nerves he has, he does feel better once he’s dry and pulling on more comfortable clothes, a scavenged hoodie and gray joggers warmed with a touch of Light. He can just barely hear the sounds of voices in the kitchen, overlaid with the quiet clinks of pots and utensils. 

He would rather melt into a puddle of Solar Light on the bathroom floor than go out there.

Lux appears in a flash of blue-silver light, posture soft despite the bob of the little spider at the end of his silly little witch hat shell. “You’ll be fine,” the Ghost says, “Trust me.”

He does. 

He pulls the hood up before he leaves the steamy bathroom, hands shoved deep into the front pocket so they can’t see how bad they shake. Lux follows over his shoulder, humming a cheery tune.   


Ari’s the first of the two he has to face, seated at the table with a glass full of lemonade next to the pages of instructions she’d likely been reading aloud before she heard the door.

“Oh, hi Koval,” she says, and he watches the way the shock on her face slips behind something a bit softer. She looks pretty today, black hair pulled into a low braid down her right shoulder. The sunlight stains the purple ends maroon to match her knit sweater. “How was the run on Nessus?”

He pulls out the chair across from her, settling on the edge in case he loses his nerve. “It was… okay. Amanda had some bad intel and I got jumped by Taken the moment I landed, but it worked out.” 

Their conversation is a bit stilted, and every now and then he catches the shadow of concern and hurt drifting through Ari’s golden eyes. His chest throbs at every awkward pause and mildly forced smile she gives, and he knows this is all his fault. Talson’s knife gets dropped in the sink with a light clatter after he finishes his dinner prep, and the Titan makes his way over to sit with them.

He’s halfway out of his chair in panic by the time Talson reaches the table, and he doesn’t even know why. 

_Coward._ _Coward, coward, cowardcowardcoward._

An Arc charged palm clapping down onto his shoulder knocks him back into the present and into his chair. 

“Sorry, but you need to sit, and we need to talk.”

He takes a deep breath but doesn’t fight. Talson is right, Lux is right, and as much as he hates to, he gets comfortable and braces himself for the conversation ahead. Talson turns his chair around, straddling it and resting his arms along the back. Ari shoots him a look, but he shrugs and faces him.

“I know you have questions of what’s going on between us, and we’re happy to answer.”

“When did it start?” His voice is surprisingly steady.

“A few weeks after the Dawning,” Ari replies this time, “You were put in charge of clearing out some of the bunkers for Rasputin, and well, we got lonely. It kind of started as just mindless fun, and then it went from there. It’s, ah, a bit easier to sleep when you’ve got someone next to you, after all.”

“Ah, that long huh?” He avoids their eyes, and stares instead at the upside down instruction pages. 

They’re both eyeing him; he can feel the way they pick apart every minor adjustment of his posture. 

“Did we make you uncomfortable?” Talson’s question catches him off guard. 

“No!” he says, a little too fast and a little too desperate, “I... I’m just-” He meets Talson’s eyes for a moment, admiring the apologetic glow to the mint green before he ducks his head again. 

_ If this is how they find out, so be it. They deserve to know about each other’s actions as much as mine.  _

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, but you  _ both _ have been confusing me,” he keeps his nerve, despite the growing shakiness to his voice. “Ari, I know you aren’t a cuddly person, and yet every night you come out on the balcony with me, you’re practically glued to my side. And Talson, why are you acting so nervous around me lately? If I hadn’t known you and Ari were together, I would have sworn you were trying to grab my hand today.” He pauses, takes a deep breath, and lifts his head to face them both.

“You already have each other, so why does it feel like you’re each pursuing me too?”

He’s a bit shocked to see the way the color of Ari’s cheeks deepen and she looks away, fiddling with the tail of her braid. Talson looks between them, contemplative, but not as upset with and one might imagine with the look he exchanges with Ari. They look like they just lost a gamble, if he’s honest.  _ Well, might as well come clean myself. _

“I just don’t know how much more my heart can take it,” he admits in the quiet between them, then looks away in embarrassment. The silence returns heavier than before, and he winces at how hot his cheeks burn. 

“Ari? Can I just…” Talson trails off. He’s not expecting the hesitance, or Ari’s response.

“Yeah, might as well. Cat’s out of the bag.”

“Wait, what?” He looks up in time to see Talson getting out of his chair and stalking over, determination bleeding into every step around the table. “What are yo- Talson! Hold on!”

He’s hauled out of his chair by the Titan, which clatters as it falls onto its side. Talson looks him dead in the eye, noses almost touching as he’s held on his tiptoes by the front of his hoodie. He’s too shell shocked to even begin to fight it, hands locked around Talson’s wrist to keep his balance. His eyes flick to Ari, who’s watching with a relaxed, albeit curious, look. 

“Tell me to stop,” Talson says and his gaze snaps back to the glowing mint green in front of him. The Titan uses that commanding voice that he reserves for when they’re out in the field when whatever he has to say is important. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go.” There's something pained in the way he says the last little bit. 

Their breaths mingle as his chest heaves in panic. Talson’s gaze flickers between his eyes and his lips, and _ stars above _ , even _ he  _ can see where this is going. He only has a moment to admire how  _ pretty _ the Titan’s eyes are before he closes them, and breathes out, “Your move, Koval.” 

His heart wins out over his head, and he tilts his chin just enough to slot his lips against Talson’s. There’s a moment where they both freeze, that inkling of doubt rearing its ugly little head, until Talson snaps out of it first and presses back and the dining room falls away. 

Arc Light crackles from his lips to his toes, the kiss is quite literally electric. Talson is gentle, despite the charged atmosphere, and he relishes in the taste of rain on the Titan’s tongue when he parts his lip. He doesn’t know how long the world is lost to the whirlwind of sensations, or when he’s set back on his feet, or how his hands find their way to holding down Talson’s neck or mapping out the front of his torso. 

Cold hands tracing the curve of his ribs bring him back to the here and now, and he breaks the kiss with a startled gasp. “ _ Fuck _ \- Ari I’m…” He trails off as she drapes herself along his back, arms circled and clasped through his front pocket like a belt.

Ari rests her cheek against his right shoulder blade, raspberries and gunpowder clouding in around the heady petrichor when she rubs her cheek against it like a cat. 

“Koval, do not take this lightly, especially from a Warlock.” She presses a small kiss to the ever burning line of tension through the fabric, punctuating it with a squeeze to his middle. “You think too much.”

“Way, way too much,” Talson rumbles in agreement, then captures his lips once more. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Babies. I love them.


	12. Thin Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update, make sure you check one chapter back!

“Talson, off.”

“But you're so warmmmm.”

“And you’re heavy. Get. Off.” 

“Kovaaalll, please just a little longer before we have to go back out in the snow.”

“Fine, but you’re on thin ice.” 

Talson makes a noise of excitement and shoves his frigid face further into the crook of his neck. 

“Christ, your nose is cold.”

The Titan’s response is too muffled to make out. 

He lets his Solar Light fill from his chest to his fingertips and toes, much to the enjoyment of Talson. He lets him warm himself a while longer, pulling out his VanHUD to continue reading on their target. He jumps when icy lips connect with the skin under his jaw. 

"Talson. No."

His response is another kiss to his warm skin, then another down the fabric keeping his neck warm. 

"Quit it."

Talson waits only a second, smiling against the lycra. He opens his jaw and gently bites down when his neck meets his shoulder, earning himself a startled gasp. He shoves the Titan off with a huff.

"That's it. Off. You lost your warm privileges."

"Bu-"

"No buts. Let's go." He turns and pulls his helmet back over his head, then swings open the door to the frozen frontier. 

"Koval! Let me at least get my helmet on!"

"Hurry up, we only have 20 minutes until we're in Jupiter's shadow. Then it's going to be real cold." He almost shuts the door on his cloak in his scramble to get outside. He relishes in the way the cold fights back the overheating warmth and calms the blush he knows is settling over his cheeks. 

Stupid Striker Titan. He's on thin ice indeed. 


	13. A Fallen Comrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if... What if...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline gets a bit funky here, this was technically supposed to come before Thin Ice, but I was over excited.This is set after the end of the 2 day revenge fueled rampage during the events of Forsaken.

When he gets home that night, Ari flings herself at him, squeezing him so hard around the middle his ribs ache. Talson isn’t far behind, prying the magnetic locks off his hood and helmet, then pulling the Celestial off. It drops with a heavy thud. Talson presses a gentle kiss to his forehead as he drops his face onto Ari’s shoulder. 

“W-we were so worried about you,” Ari says, letting go of her death squeeze to pull him further inside. He’s too choked up to reply.

Talson backs through the dining area and kitchen with them, clearly distressed but desperate to hide it. The Titan sits first once they reach the couch, making grabby hands at him. He only has a moment to sit down and get comfortable against Talson’s chest before Ari is upon him once more, helping him strip off the armor on his feet so she can settle under his legs. Lux unfolds over his shoulder, his shell drooped and blue eye unfocused. He floats off towards where the other two Ghosts generally stay, unusually quiet.

Talson’s arms around him feel safe. 

He’s safe. 

Nothing can hurt him here, not with his fireteam curled up against him. 

Nothing can hurt them. 

_ But. _

That’s what he thought about Cayde. 

He wasn’t there. What if he isn’t there for them?

What if he loses Ari? What if he loses Talson? 

_ What if… what if… _

“Koval, hey, shh sh shh,” Talson’s voice snaps him out of the downward spiral of his thoughts. It takes him a moment to realize where he is, who he’s with, that Ari is looking at him with concern and Talson is tense against his back. Ari reaches out and wipes his cheek with her thumb, and oh, he’s crying. _Again_. 

It seems like all he’s done in the last two days is cry. 

“We heard what happened, oh Koval I’m so sorry,” Ari says as she cups his cheeks and brushes away the fresh tears. Her own hazel eyes are glossy. Talson relaxes, dropping his head into the crook of his neck. He can’t imagine it’s comfortable to be pressed up against him as he is, still clad in most of his armor and his cloak. He pulls away from Ari, wiggles away from Talson, and stands to strip down to his undersuit. 

“Can I go shower?” he asks, and winces at how rough his voice is. It’s no surprise, given the past two days, but it still hurts to speak. 

“Oh, yeah, c’mon.” Without the bracing to his armor, he feels weak, sore. It's a slow shuffle to the master bathroom, upon Ari’s insistence. “Just relax, Talson is getting your soaps, you deserve a nice long soak.”

He’s not a frequent visitor to the master bathroom, as he and Talson generally share the guest shower. Ari starts filling the tub with hot water and forces a white bath bomb into his hands on her way out. “Please. Use it.” 

Once the tub is full, he drops the ball in, and pulls off the last of his clothes. The hot water is soothing to his sore muscles, the shea butter in the bath bomb a nice touch to his skin. He can hear Ari and Talson move into the master bedroom, talking between themselves. He hears his name, and shifts to hear a bit better. 

“...two days, he didn’t even try to... or tell us he was safe.”

“He went through… traumatic. He ne... time.”

“I just don’t understand. Why not at least… us?” 

“You’ve never lost… one, it’s hard to explain if you’ve never… it. He’s home and… now, we need to be as supp… as possible. However… needs.” 

“Alright.”

He feels the choked up feeling return the longer he listens, until eventually he’s crying again. He brings his knees up and sobs quietly until the cold is too much on his exposed back and legs, then steadies his breathing and settles back into the water. He stays there until the bath goes lukewarm, the froth from the bath bomb dissolves. It’s easy enough to get the shower going as the tub drains, just cold and a little hard to get his body moving again. It's when he’s washing his hair that Talson knocks and cracks the door. “Hey, I have some pjs for you. They’re on the counter.”

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Ari is ordering dinner, anywhere specific you want?” His voice is clearer now that he’s all the way in the bathroom.

“Mika’s?”

“I’ll tell her. Your usual?”

“Yes please.” 

“Okay,” Talson hesitates as he opens the door again. “Let me know what you need, I know it’s hard.” 

“Okay. Thank you.”

Talson shuts the door gently. He’s thankful for the Titan. It’s nice to have someone who knows what he’s going through, as heartbreaking as it is. He only wishes neither of them had to go through it in the first place. The rest of his shower is quick as he goes through the motions of cleaning the remaining dirt and grime on his skin. The steam from the shower keeps him warm once he gets out, despite how much Talson let out. His clothes are blessedly soft and heated, probably just run through the dryer before they were folded and brought in. It only takes him a few moments to dry his hair, thanks to a flare of Solar Light along his hand as he runs it through. 

“Time to face the music, Koval,” he says to his reflection, staring it down in the mirror. 

He still looks worse for wear, but his hair is no longer a sweaty mat, and his markings are a bit clearer once again. 

Talson is bustling around the kitchen when he comes down the hallway. Ari puts away her VanHUD in a hurry when she sees him at the threshold, jumping up from the counter to hug him tightly again. She pulls away to poke a finger at his chest. “If you ever do that again, I’m going to murder you myself, mmkay?” Despite the cheery way she says it, he knows the threat is real. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Talson laughs at the display from his vantage over the kitchen bar. “Ari, darling, get in line.” 

“You two are insufferable.” 

“Only because we care about you, Mr. Renegade.” 

Ari hugs him once more, then heads to her spot on the couch. “Mika’s will be here soon, Do you want to put anything on? Talson has dibs for the Iron Banner match at ten, but until then?” 

“I just want to go to bed. I haven’t slept at all.” 

“And I bet you haven’t eaten either. Food first, then you can sleep. C’mere.” Ari settles with her legs down for once, a clear invitation. He happily takes the offer, laying down and setting his head in her lap. She picks her VanHUD back up and idly browses through it, running her free hand through his hair. She combs through the dark magenta fringe gently, scritching at the shaved sides every now and then. He dozes while they wait for food, the feelings of safety and comfort finally overriding the hyper-vigilance that's been plaguing him the last two days. 

It’s not perfect, nothing ever will be again. 

But at the moment, he’s okay.

And that’s okay.


	14. Crimson

Crimson light pools in their room, wreathing Koval in softened sunshine. Ari has already left for the day, an early start to a meeting with her Circle, but his guardian has nowhere to be, nor does Talson. The Titan perches at the edge of their bed, white sleep shirt stained pink in the curtain-tinted light of dawn. He's only just managed to get free of Koval's grip without waking the Hunter, a feat in itself. But he doesn't stray too far. He takes the moment to run his fingers through Koval's mess of purple hair, scritching down the clipped sides and following the curve of his jaw. His nose scrunches as Talson brushes his thumb over his cheek, but he doesn't wake up. The Hunter's face softens the longer Talson traces small swirls of nothing along the lines of his tattoos high on the bone of his cheek. Light and dark swirl just at the edges of his skin, almost invisible to the unaccustomed eye. The touch is soft, loving, and oh so careful as Talson draws his fingers away after tracing the sharp lines once more.

He captures the moment with a tiny internal click, then floats off to find Wolfe. Koval will wake up to the photo on his datapad and stars know he's going to throw a fit, but he knows that he'll love it just as much as Ari and Talson. 


	15. Young Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Young Wolf..."

“Why do your eyes glow so strong?”

The question catches him off guard. It feels like it's been hours of being out in the cold scouting for a highly valued Cabal Valus, and it’s the first thing he’s heard over the comms since they settled into position. 

“Talson, we’re both Awoken, our eyes always glow.”

“Well yeah, but I can see yours from all the way over here.”

“I haven’t taken my helmet off.” 

“Wait what?” 

“I don’t know how you could have seen my eyes glowing unless you have x-ray vision now.”

“Then who am I looking at? Because there’s definitely a set of glowing white eyes in the room with you.” He sounds spooked.

He stalls his breathing and draws a knife slowly from a sheath on his upper arm. Terror courses up his spine. One more breath, and he rolls and slings the blade at the white glow. It spins straight through the creature, the image wobbling back into one piece like a phantom. 

A wolf even larger than Lord Shaxx and made of shadow steps into the pooling moonlight of the room, it’s eyes bright enough to outshine the stars. When he looks down, his weapons are gone. As the wolf pads closer, he tries to scramble away, shuffling backwards until his back meets the window ledge and the wolf is inches from his face. It’s teeth shine just as strong as its eyes as it bares them, liquid similar to the pools of starlight the Taken leave behind dribbling out of its maw. It burns as it pools on his stomach.

“Talson, I need backup!” he yells into the comms, only to receive a burst of static in return. He tries to scramble away further, chest heaving, but the wolf snarls and snaps its teeth closed around his hood. It shakes him violently, then rears up and tosses him like a sack of feathers to the side. He hits the wall with a thump and collapses. The wolf growls low in its throat, and straddles his aching form once again. 

“Young Wolf…” it croons, sharp teeth and tongue struggling around the human syllables. More starlit liquid oozes from around the bright teeth, sloughing away the paint and eating through the metal from his helmet. His arm is ripped clean through at the joint of his elbow as he tries to cover his face from the viscous fluid, and he screams. 

“You… slip,” the words are just as clear, despite being spoken around the detached limb. It tosses his arm to the side. “Do not..” The wolf fits its jaws around his melting helmet, salivating heavily, and starts to close. The pressure shatters the last of the plexiglass, splattering black liquid fire along his face.

“ _ Or else! _ ”

He wakes up with a scream loud enough his throat hurts, tumbling straight out of bed and curling into a protective ball on the floor. He wipes at his face, desperate to get the starlight drool off. 

“Koval?” Ari’s voice is thick with sleep and worry as she fiddles for a lamp switch. “Hey, sh sh shh, you’re safe, deep breaths.”

She slips out of bed much easier than him. The gentle pressure of her hands on his shoulder brings him out of the last of the dream, and he pulls a shuddery breath. 

“S-sorry I woke you,” he manages as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “It’s just a dream, I’ll be fine.” 

“No you’re not, I’m not going to leave you to sit on the floor. Let’s get you back in bed.” 

He shivers as he’s directed off the carpet and back under his portion of the sheets, the sweat on his skin going cold the more he moves. Ari must be able to see the stripe along his spine, as she pulls at the hem of his shirt before he can settle back under the covers. 

“Off, you’re soaked and going to stink up my sheets.”

“Alright,” he can’t help the strained chuckle as he takes the article off, tossing it past the lamplight and onto the floor. He can feel his ears warm at her staring, following the swirling iridescence across his skin. She cuts the appreciation blessedly short after a few more moments, turning back onto her side and flicking off the light. There’s the soft noise of her settling back under the warm sheets, and then a soft yawn. 

“Try to sleep, Talson gets back in early.” 

“I’ll try. Goodnight, little nova,” the pet name falls easily from his lips as he settles, and he can hear the gentle smile in Ari’s voice when she responds.

“Goodnight sunshine.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Check me out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/xEclipseWarrior?s=09) and [Tumblr](https://little-eclipse-kitten.tumblr.com)


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